


New Orleans

by crochetaway



Series: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: American Tom Riddle, F/M, Modern AU, Professor Hermione Granger, Professor Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: There’s something strange going on to the south of here. It’s been messing with Hermione's magic for the last few days.





	New Orleans

**Author's Note:**

> **Created for Hermione's Haven Bingo 2019 Fest! This is for my B2 square which was the quote: There’s something strange going on to the south of here. It’s been messing with my magic for the last few days.**
> 
> **This is a Modern AU with Tom Riddle as being an American with a delicious southern drawl.**
> 
> **No beta, just Grammarly. If you love this (or hate it) please let me know about in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

Hermione shook her wand even as she felt the Transfiguration spell go wrong. The cat she was attempting to Transfigure into a breadbox half-transformed. There was still a tail and Hermione was pretty sure it just meowed.

“Professor Granger? Something wrong?” Professor Riddle asked in a southern drawl that almost had her shivering. Hermione frowned at her colleague.

“There’s something strange going on to the south of here. It’s been messing with my magic for the last few days,” Hermione said. She frowned and reversed the spell on the cat. The orange calico returned to its usual form and gave Hermione a baleful eye.

“Sorry, boy,” Hermione muttered, patting his head.

“What do you mean?” Professor Riddle asked. He had crossed the Transfigurations lab and approached the table Hermione was working at. Hermione still had a hard time with his accent, it dripped and drawled like hot fudge on ice cream and she could listen to him talk all day long.

“That’s a sixth-year spell,” Hermione said. “Or I guess you’d call it junior year here. I’m a Transfiguration’s Mistress, I should be able to complete sixth-year spells in my sleep. And yet, it didn’t work? Why?”

“Why do you think something is going on in the south?” Riddle asked. His dark blue eyes peered into hers and Hermione ignored the fluttering of her heart. He was just a colleague. _Just a colleague_ , she reminded herself over and over again. She was a visiting professor at the wizarding side of the University of Mississippi, or as the locals called it Ole Miss.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione shook her head. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on the magic in the world around her. Magic was finicky, but from the theoretical classes Hermione had taken when she was at university, she knew that while wizards had magical cores they could draw from, those cores were then filled by magic in the surrounding ley lines. Some places had more magic than others. It’s why the ancient standing stones in the British Isles were still used with such frequency even in modern times. It’s why even the Muggles were drawn to ancient sites. The residual, natural magic acted as a magnet or homing beacon for all humans.

Focusing on the surrounding magic, she could feel a tug and pull from the south. It both called to her and repelled her. It wasn’t something she’d come across before and she couldn’t actually pinpoint to when it started, but she’d been in Oxford, Mississippi, where Ole Miss was located for going on six months. She was halfway through her year of research.

“Can’t you feel it?” Hermione asked, popping her eyes open. She was startled to see that Riddle had moved around the table and was standing right before her, almost too close for propriety’s sake. He was still staring at her with a gaze that felt like it pierced Hermione’s soul.

“I can’t,” Riddle replied. “How is it you ‘feel’ it?”

“Do you know anything about Magical Theory?” Hermione asked, pursing her lips. How could he not know this? It was part of every Transfiguration curriculum in Europe. Maybe it was a Yank thing?

Riddle shook his head. “I didn’t take any Magical Theory classes in University,” he shrugged, “they weren’t required.”

“Really? So you’re taught that magic works just because it does? What an absurd notion.” Hermione shook her head and then launched into a lecture about how magical cores and ley lines functioned. “It’s unlikely you will be able to feel anything without several weeks of intense meditation,” she concluded. “Are there any Magical Theorists at the University?”

It was Riddle’s turn to purse his lips. He seemed to lean even closer to her. “Only Professor Lestrange, although she’s a little...odd.”

“Right, well, none of my experiments are going to go well if I can’t make my magic work. I’ll either need to speak with her or head south to figure out where the disturbance is coming from.”

“New Orleans,” Riddle said.

“What about it?” Hermione knew of the city, but she had yet had time to take the three hundred and fifty mile trip down there.

“That’s likely where the source is coming from. It’s the greatest convergence of ley lines in the area.” Hermione shook her head, it still shocked her at how big a country America was. Three hundred and fifty miles in Britain would get you most of the way from Hogwarts to London. Here, it was considered ‘in the area.’

“You know about ley lines, but nothing about Magical Theory?” Hermione questioned. Riddle just shrugged his shoulders.

“Let’s go down there,” he suggested.

“To New Orleans?” Hermione asked, half-incredulous. “Now?”

Riddle looked at his wristwatch. “It’s almost five in the afternoon on a Friday. We can be down there by ten this evening, find a hotel in the magical quarter and either see if we can pinpoint the location of the disturbance or speak with wizards in the area to see if they’ve noticed anything.”

“Why wouldn’t we just Floo MACUSA?” Hermione asked. “Let the authorities handle it.”

“Is that what you do in England?” Riddle asked, cocking his head to the side. He had a faint smirk playing about the corners of his lips. “How quaint.”

Hermione blinked at him. She had stopped breathing at the look he was giving her and had to mentally kick herself to get her breathing going again. She bit her lip as she thought over his proposal. Actually, in Britain, she probably would attempt to investigate it herself, she was a Gryffindor after all, but she’d become more cautious as an adult and she was in a foreign country. The idea of spending five hours in a car with Riddle both terrified and exhilarated her.

“Alright,” Hermione said, making up her mind. “Let’s do it.”

_**~Fin~** _


End file.
